


Wrecked (Wanting)

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9354158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: “The silent treatment.” Chris said, finally turning on the engine. “Great.”





	

“You’re mad.”

Stiles was mad. He was so angry he was practically steaming with it, this tight, churning, hot fury in his chest. 

He tipped his chin up slightly and crossed his arms. “I’m not mad.”

It wasn’t so much that he heard Chris’s quiet snort, more like he knew it was coming, and it made him grind his teeth together. They sat in silence for a long minute, Chris looking expectedly at Stiles while Stiles tried his hardest to ignore the stare burning into the side of his face, instead glaring out of the windshield.

The others had left a while ago, so it was just Chris’s car left, haphazardly pulled over on the side of the road that skimmed through the woods. The threat hadn’t even been too serious, or at least not comparable to other shit they’d dealt with in the past, and aside from Scott dislocating his shoulder, no one had been hurt. Just a group of hunters, wanting to claim the prize – Stiles felt a roll of disgust as he remembered what one of the hunters had called it – of killing a True Alpha. 

But it was always serious to Stiles, especially when it was his best friend’s life at stake. It didn’t matter what they were fighting, there was always that awareness that something could get wrong, that they could lose someone, and it left Stiles with this weary, cold-boned exhaustion.

Chris heaved a deep sigh. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Stiles folded his arms tighter, jaw clamped firmly shut, and his efforts rewarded him with another sigh.

“The silent treatment.” Chris said, finally turning on the engine. “Great.”

They drove in total silence for almost five minutes before Stiles started to feel that itchy feeling under his skin. He was never good at silence and it ate away at him, made him fidget in his seat. He kind of wanted to turn the radio on, but doing so kind of felt like he’d be losing his upperhand, so he endured it for as long as he could before sighing, rolling his head slightly to the side.

Chris had one hand on the steering wheel, the other casually wrapped around the stick shift, gaze on the road. Stiles couldn’t help but just stare at his hands for a moment, then up, taking in his strong forearms. He was wearing a Henley with the sleeves rolled up, open just enough at the collar to tease. It was like Chris Argent was designed to constantly drive Stiles crazy, from his strong thighs to the stubble that Stiles knew felt pleasure-burn good against his skin. 

Chris glanced at him and a smug smile touched his mouth. It infuriated Stiles more even as it licked at the arousal coiling in his gut.

“Pull over.”

Chris raised an eyebrow but silently obliged, guiding the car to a smooth stop on the side of the road. He’d barely turned the engine off before Stiles was scrambling over the center console to sit in his lap. It was awkward – too many limbs in a small space – and uncomfortable, the steering wheel digging painfully into the small of Stiles’ back, but Chris only needed a second to catch up and then he was dropping a hand to push the seat back, giving them more room. Stiles finally got settled, straddling Chris’ lap, fisting his hands in his shirt as he captured his lips in a bruising kiss. 

Chris kissed him back, hot and deep, lifting his hands to frame Stiles’s face, guiding the kiss into something slower and infinitely better. He kissed him almost feverishly, slowly dropping one hand to slide down Stiles’s side, skimming over his hip and then to his ass, squeezing hard enough for Stiles to grunt against his mouth. He pulled their bodies tight together, pulling his mouth away to scrape his stubble along Stiles’ jaw. When he shivered at the sensation, Stiles felt Chris’s mouth curl into a smile against his skin, and he frowned, gripping his jaw to guide their mouths back together, hard and demanding. 

Chris’s hand moved to Stiles’ stomach under his shirt, thumb scraping against the top of Stiles’ jeans and _yes_ , fucking _finally_ , but then something shifted, changed, and Chris was pulling back, gazing at Stiles in the darkness, their noses barely touching.

“You’re mad at me.” He murmured.

His lips were slightly swollen and Stiles ducked down, brushing his own against them, but Chris pulled back.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Kinda.”

“Sex isn’t gonna solve that, Stiles.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Blasphemy! Sex solves everything.”

Chris grinned at that, just for a second, before lifting his hand to cup Stiles’s face, thumb brushing over his jaw. Stiles closed his eyes, leaning in the touch. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe that he got to have this. They’d been living together since he’d graduated from college, but it still filled him with happiness when he got to indulge in moments like this.

“Talk to me.” Chris’s voice was soft, but firm, and Stiles opened his eyes.

“I just…you stepped in front of me. When that hunter swung for me, you stepped in front of me.”

Chris’s brow furrowed, like that was the last thing he’d been expecting. He brushed his thumb over Stiles’s lower lip, then dipped it down over his chin, dragging it down the column of his throat.

“He had a knife, Stiles. I know you can take care of yourself -.”

“No.” Stiles interrupted. “It has nothing to do with that. I mean, yeah, I had it handled, but…you were gonna take the hit for me if Allison hadn’t taken him out.”

Chris’s face softened and he cupped the back of Stiles’s neck, gently guiding him into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the hollow behind Stiles’s ear. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you. I’m not gonna stand by and watch you get hurt, not if I can stop it.”

“And you think I feel any differently?” Stiles asked quietly. “If you got hurt, if you got _killed_ …it’d wreck me, okay? I love you. I don’t want to lose you.” He looked up, swallowing. “Just…please try and be more careful. For me.”

Chris kissed his temple. “I will.” He promised.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently accepting prompts at allirica.tumblr.com


End file.
